Chris Nakashima-Brown is a Texas science fiction writer, popcult savant, and IP attorney. He writes like a cross between William Gibson and Mark "My Cousin, My Gastroenterologist" Leyner — these magical, hyperdense sentences that are each of them nearly haiku of amusant culture-jammer archness. The plot of his latest story is the use of Borgesian magic-realism as covert weapons of mass destruction, and its online gratis at Strange Horizons. Here's a taste:
I had my 9 a.m. acting class (Shatner method) to teach to our platoon of body doubles. Ali was the star out of the three unemployed Saddams we had recruited. He was dating J. Lo #2, Esmeralda Nuñez, and we needed to get them ready for their first op–a masterful bit of paparazzi placement I'd engineered for the next slow news week…
Womack set up his 12-inch Presidential Aviator George W. Bush in an on-deck leadership pose between the ketchup and the salt shaker. Fully outfitted with flight suit, pressure gear, and sidearm, the Prez usually stayed on the dash of Womack's Lincoln Continental, but turned into a worry ball when the boss was preoccupied. A worry ball that also served as a vehicle for Womack to practice the masterful voice-throwing he had honed in two decades as a practitioner of dirty tricks and kids' party ventriloquist.
"We're working hard to put food on your family," said the mini-Prez. "I know the human being and fish can coexist peacefully."
